A Lesson
"How can this be?!" Kakashi exclaimed, staring in shock at the faint smoke curling around his neck where Shirō's blade had almost grazed him.
"That's why I said you're still a bit lacking. That wasn't a Shadow Clone at all—it was just a smoke bomb," Shirō explained casually as he lowered his sword.
It turned out that the smoke wasn't from a Shadow Clone dispersing, but from a special smoke bomb Shirō had hidden in his sleeve. Its effect was nearly identical to the smoke produced when a Shadow Clone vanished. Without sharp observation and real combat experience, it was almost impossible to tell the difference.
Shirō had picked up many such little tricks. They weren't high-level ninjutsu but clever tactics learned from Yamada during the war—commoner shinobi who survived by guile rather than raw power.
By contrast, shinobi from clans like Kakashi, who had access to vast ninjutsu repertoires, were aware of such tricks but rarely valued them. For them, ninjutsu was abundant, and they had no need to rely on makeshift methods.
What's more, tricks like these were often used to cover for weaknesses in the basic Three Body Technique—Substitution, Clone, and Transformation. Once a shinobi had mastered those fundamentals, such tactics seemed redundant.
Because of this, Kakashi hadn't considered the possibility at all. And that was precisely why Shirō had managed to outwit him.
Kakashi finally shook his head, slid his kunai back into its pouch, and walked beside Shirō toward Sakumo.
The White Fang stood silently, arms folded, deep in thought as the two boys came to stand before him. After a pause, his calm but sharp eyes swept across them.
"First, let me say—you both showed glaring weaknesses today that must be addressed. Shirō, let's start with you."
Shirō's posture straightened immediately. He looked at Sakumo with a serious expression, awaiting his critique.
"Your Crane Wing Triple Strike is indeed powerful. But your flaw lies in your over-reliance on it. Every action you take in combat revolves around setting up that one technique. This is a mistake.
Your swordsmanship is strong enough to hold its own even without that technique, but you've been treating everything as a prelude to it. That mindset leaves you predictable."
Sakumo's voice was firm but not unkind. "The Crane Wing Triple Strike should be one tool among many, not the only finish. No technique is invincible. In battle, each move should create new advantages, layer upon layer, until victory becomes inevitable. That is the essence of swordsmanship. Learn to integrate it with ninjutsu as well—you'll see far better results."
Leaving Shirō to ponder his words, Sakumo turned to his son.
"Kakashi, your issues are no less serious. First and most obvious—your lack of practical combat awareness. Shirō's trick just now is something covered in your Academy lessons. I myself have reminded you about such tactics. And yet, you dismissed them."
Kakashi lowered his eyes slightly, lips pressed together.
"Every method exists for a reason," Sakumo continued. "You don't have to master these tricks yourself, but you must be able to recognize them. Ignoring them outright is arrogance, and in battle, arrogance will kill you."
He paused, letting the words sink in. "Secondly, your Shadow Clone feint was clever and subtle. If you had pressed the advantage with your blade at that moment, you would have already won. This shows that while you grasp ninjutsu tactics, your swordsmanship isn't yet refined enough to follow through. You must train harder.
Every strike can be combined in countless ways. But you cannot simply copy others—you must forge combinations that suit your own style. That is how a shinobi truly grows stronger."
Having said his piece, Sakumo turned and walked back toward the house to fetch something, leaving the two young shinobi to stew in his words.
The lecture had hit its mark. Both boys had been arrogant in their own ways. Kakashi, a prodigy, had long looked down on his peers. Shirō, though lacking Kakashi's innate genius, had relied heavily on the borrowed experiences of Heroic Spirits, which had sharpened his skills rapidly. He even possessed a fledgling "Mind's Eye" ability—though only at D-rank, far from Emiya's B-rank level. Still, he had grown proud of his progress, especially with the devastating Crane Wing Triple Strike at his disposal.
But Sakumo's words rang true. The Crane Wing was not an unbeatable trump card—it was merely a tool that influenced the battlefield. To rely on it as an ultimate finishing move was to build his entire style on fragile ground. If it failed, everything else would collapse.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late to adjust. With only a few changes in his combat approach, Shirō could avoid this pitfall.
Kakashi's challenge was different. His flaws weren't many, but correcting them would require time and deliberate training. Once he overcame them, however, his strength would skyrocket.
Shirō realized with some unease that if he didn't act soon, Kakashi might surpass him—and once that happened, there'd be no chance to catch up.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sakumo returned, carrying something large and heavy. With a boom, he dropped it on the ground. Dust rose as the earth cracked beneath its weight.
Shirō's eyes widened. He swallowed nervously. For some reason, he suddenly pictured a certain green-haired father and son duo, known for their "youthful" training methods. A chill ran down his spine.
"W-what is this?" Kakashi asked, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. Having spent time with Guy, he knew all too well what such ominous items usually meant.
Both boys had worn training weights before—but nothing like this. These were so heavy that they gouged a pit into the ground just from falling. Who could possibly withstand that, short of a Taijutsu specialist?
Their faint hopes were crushed as Sakumo spoke in his calm, matter-of-fact tone.
"These are custom-made weights, prepared with sealing techniques by the Barrier Corps. From now on, except when you're on missions, you will wear them at all times. Taijutsu is not something you can neglect. You both need to strengthen your bodies."
Kakashi's expression twitched. "Then… can we at least start with lighter ones?"
"No," Sakumo replied bluntly. "These are already the lightest available. Any lighter, and they'd just be bulky without effect. There's no time to make more. Put them on."
His expression didn't change in the slightest, but Shirō burned the sight into his memory. He swore silently: one day, he'd do the same to his own disciples—vengeance, passed down to the next generation.
No matter how unwilling they were, both Shirō and Kakashi stepped forward and strapped the weights on.
At least they were expertly crafted. Despite their crushing heaviness, the seals allowed the weights to be thin and adjustable. Even now, they were set to the "lightest" setting—and still, each step felt like dragging a boulder.
Training, it seemed, had only just begun.
Visit patreon.com/Mexxywave to get access to 30+ chapters.